


Look!

by todisturbtheuniverse



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Act 1, Fluff, Hawke is a magpie, Humor, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:03:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1304218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/todisturbtheuniverse/pseuds/todisturbtheuniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hawke is a magpie. Anders needs a new feather.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Look!

"Look!"

Anders braced himself. Every time Hawke said “Look!” in that bright, cheerful voice, whoever was nearest would be expected to  _look_ , and at least fake some enthusiasm about whatever weird old thing Hawke had unearthed. Usually, this  _someone_ was Anders, because the others had a sixth sense about this odd habit of Hawke’s and skipped back ten paces as soon as he crouched down next to a broken crate or battered chest.

Proudly, Hawke brandished his find: a glossy black raven feather.

"Was that all?" Anders asked, a touch exasperated.

"A few bits too. Look, though." Grinning, Hawke carefully poked the quill straight into Anders’s coat, right amidst all the other feathers. Anders could feel the sharp jab of it, dulled by the tattered shirt protecting his skin. Hawke smoothed it down until it lay in line with the others, heavy hand going over Anders’s shoulder once, twice.

"You could use a new one," Hawke said cheerfully, stepping back to admire his work. "Varric, look! Money!" He tossed one of the bits to Anders, winked, and turned toward the dwarf.

"If you manage to fund that blighted expedition with just bits you picked out of broken crates, I’ll eat Bartrand’s beard," Varric announced, examining the coins reluctantly.

Anders shuddered. Hawke patted him once more on the shoulder—in commiseration, Anders thought—pocketed the coin, and led the way deeper into the cave.

_I’ll have to sew it in_ , Anders thought, glancing down at the feather.  _It’ll never stay otherwise, and then he’ll be put out that I didn’t keep the blasted thing._ _Never hear the end of it._

And if he thought of Hawke’s grin while he sewed, well—that was between him and his patients, and they wouldn’t tell why he was smiling while he mended his coat.


End file.
